


Warmth in Winter

by felypsa



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Ice Skating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 08:06:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14232939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felypsa/pseuds/felypsa
Summary: Emily and Pietro go ice skating together for the first time.





	Warmth in Winter

**Author's Note:**

> I will go down with the disgusting cuteness of this ship, goddammit. No shame.

It takes a lot to slow Pietro down.

Putting him in ice skates seems to do the trick, though. 

It was Emily’s idea—as the temperature dropped, the winds whipping between New York’s skyscrapers grew fiercer, and the air regularly filled with flurries, she was nudged back into nostalgia when her grandfather would take her and her brother ice skating, once a week every week for as long as winter stretched. She’s mentioned these memories to Pietro once or twice before, wistful but sad. There’s not much left of her family anymore, and nothing left of those glittery childhood days. 

She and Pietro should go skating sometime, she suggested once.

He gave a little scoffing laugh at first. She looked at him with raised eyebrows, and he, realizing that he sounded disdainful, rushed to explain that it was only because he didn’t see it happening anytime soon—the superhero life was so relentless, their lives were constantly in danger, the world had to be saved every freaking week…

She put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Someday, she said with a little smile. It could be nice.

His expression melted into a soft smile, and he picked up her hand and placed it against his face. Someday, he echoed.

And now, finally, someday is here.

A day off. They’re rested and healthy (for _once),_ the weather report promises light snow, and no one else on their team is paying attention to them. Emily digs up her pair of skates—she went often enough with her family that they all bought their own—and slides into her winter coat before going to meet Pietro. He’ll have to rent a pair at the rink, she assumes. Ice skating will be a popular activity today, but she hopes that the rink where she’s used to going won’t be too crowded. 

Pietro surprises her by meeting her with his own pair of skates slung over his shoulder. 

“Where—when did you get those?” she asks, a smile coming to her lips.

He shrugs. “Sometime after you suggested it. I don’t remember. I thought it was a good idea.” 

She cups his face and leans up for a kiss, soft and slow. He kisses back, but his eyes are confused when she pulls away. “What was that for?”

“Sometimes, Pietro, you don’t even realize how sweet you can be.”

She enjoys the sight of the blush that steals over his cheeks. “Well,” he says, running his hand back awkwardly through his hair, “if you feel that way, then I hope you’ll like this next part too.” 

“What next—”

He’s already picked her up, and they’re running, and Emily lets out an involuntary squeak as she nestles in close to him. She’s long since gotten _used_ to the sensation of moving so fast through the world with him, but that doesn’t always mean she’s ready for it. It’s such a strange way of traveling, and she just tucks her head against him and focuses on her breathing. She trusts Pietro completely. He always gets them to where they’re supposed to be.

After a few minutes, he slows down and then comes to a halt. She inhales deeply as he sets her down and nervously steps back so she can take in where they are. Emily blinks, staring at their surroundings. They aren’t in the city anymore. No, they’re standing next to a small, frozen pond ringed by evergreen trees, the green branches just tufted with little flurries. Wherever they were…they were completely alone.

Emily’s laugh fogs in the air as she whirls around to look at her boyfriend, who’s clearly watching for her reaction. “You little devil.” There’s nothing but fondness in the words. “You scouted this out ahead of time?” 

“This morning, yeah.” Seeing her delight, he sheds his nervousness for a more pleased, smug look instead, reaching for her and drawing her back close to him. “I thought it would be nicer to be alone,” he murmurs, eyes hooded as he slides his hand down her back to rest at her waist.

Tingles burst down her spine at his touch, but Emily somehow manages to stay focused. “This is very romantic,” she agrees, lips curling up in a more mischievous grin, “but I think you just didn’t want any witnesses to your first time on ice skates in…how long?” 

He snorts, tossing his hair with a flourish as he looks away. “It doesn’t matter. I’m a natural, I’m sure of it.” 

“We’ll see about that.” Her grin broadens as she slides her skates off her shoulder and looks for a place to sit down and change into them. The cold is starting to cut into her, but it doesn’t bother her at all. She’s already filled with warmth at the prospect of their afternoon together.

\------------

Pietro has run across the surface of water countless times. He’s used to feeling the slightest resistance from the watery surface tension as he races across a lake or river or ocean. Compared to that miracle that he performs regularly, how hard could ice skating be? 

“Pietro, look out—you have to _stop—”_

Emily’s instructional cry came just a second too late, and for the third time since they started skating, he’s down on his knees, skidding across the ice. He can’t help but pound his fist into the frozen water, frustrated at all the _obstruction_ it’s causing. 

Emily comes to a neat, sharp stop beside him with a practiced twist of the blade, smiling sympathetically down at him. “You really had it that time. This ice is bumpier than it would be at a rink, so it’s a lot harder to get the hang of it…”

He sighs in defeat, looking up at her. “This is so unnatural. What kind of sadistic bastard thought it was a good idea to attach sharp blades to their feet to travel on ice?” 

Emily lets out a small laugh. “You’re going too fast. It’s not a speed thing—not when you’re starting out. It’s about balance. It’s about…letting yourself go and just _feeling_ the motions.” She reaches down for him. “C’mon. One more try. For me.”

 _For you,_ he thinks, _and only you._ His decision to find a private spot for them to skate was motivated by romance, but now he’s glad that only Emily gets to see his failures. Well, not _glad._ He’s deeply embarrassed because she is so good at this, so beautiful and graceful, and he actually feels clumsy and unsteady on his feet for the first time in his life. A part of him has always wanted to master ice skating—it’s a spectacle that’s brilliantly elegant and athletic at the same time—but he doesn’t want to keep making a fool of himself. No matter how patient Emily is, he wants to do better, to _be_ better.

He takes her hand and lets her help him up.

She leads him again, skating slowly backwards while he holds onto her hands and tries to tame his wobbly legs in the motions that she’s taught him already. “Take it slow,” she says, and he does his best to obey, clamping down on his natural urge to _go, go, go._ He trails after her, stroke after stroke, as she takes him in a circle around the pond. 

The uneven ice _does_ make for a challenge, but Pietro is determined not to fall again, doubling down every time he feels one of his feet wobbling. He’s so focused on every little step that he barely notices when Emily gradually releases one of his hands, and then ultimately the other. He blinks, keeping up with the rhythm as she circles tightly back around to be next him.

“There you go, you’ve got it!” 

He’s afraid to turn his head and look at her in case he loses this fragile balance, but he smiles at her praise and keeps going. The motions are so different from running, but the rush of gliding over a frictionless surface is familiar. He’s not even going very fast, but the distance on the ice disappears beneath his skates as he goes along. 

Assured that he’s not going to fall again, Emily pushes ahead of him and shows off her fancy footwork, easy crossovers and a couple of rotations on a single skate. He’s momentarily distracted from his iron concentration to watch her, openly admiring how easy she made it look. There’s such freedom and joy in her movements, her braid dancing out behind her, her smile stretched wide, her arms open as if she’s trying to embrace the whole world.

The sight is almost too perfect with the light snowfall that’s dotted the top of their heads, and Emily looks like a figure in a snowglobe. Pietro almost forgets that he’s here at all, watching her—but a quick stumble on the ice brings him sharply back to reality, and he’s just _barely_ able to save himself and keep going this time as he takes a wide loop around the edge of the pond.

The movement draws Emily’s attention, and she turns to look at him with a smile before picking up speed until she’s next to him again. He’s not used to being the slower one, but he doesn’t mind as she slides her gloved hand into his and stays by his side as they complete circles around the pond. This is bliss, he realizes. Just gliding along with her at his side instead of in his arms; squeezing her hand and feeling her squeeze back; gazing down into her bright eyes and snow-kissed eyelashes, enjoying the flush of her cheeks in the cold air and the sparkling smile she reserves for _only_ him.

While he’s staring at her, the tip of his blade slips into a divot in the ice and gets stuck, interrupting his flow. This one he can’t save, and he curses as he tumbles back down onto the ice. His hand naturally tightens around Emily’s, and she laughs as she goes with him, her body flopping on top of his as they slide for a few feet and then stop. 

They lie there for a moment, Emily giggling, Pietro blushing but not wanting to move. “Sorry,” he says, propping himself up on one elbow. “I guess I’m no good at this after all.”

She looks at him and shifts her body so that she’s lying beside him on the ice. “The first time I went ice skating,” she says, “I fell at least a dozen times. My brother fell maybe once or twice, but he picked it up so fast after that. My grandpa didn’t know what to do with me.” She chuckles softly. “I was just as bad the second and third times, too. But I was too stubborn to give up. I didn’t want them to have a special bonding activity without me.” 

He smiles, feeling a little sad for her, knowing that she carries the weight of lingering grief for her family. “I understand. I never wanted to be left out of anything Wanda did.”

Emily smirks knowingly, then reaches over to run her gloved fingers through his hair. “The point is, you’re doing just fine. You’re not going to be perfect at everything right off the bat. But that’s one thing I like about you, Pietro. You don’t give up easily.” 

His heart gives a heavy thud. How did she always find something nice and good to say about him, even when he feels like an abject failure? He doesn’t know, but it’s a rare gift. “As long as you’re involved, Emily, I never want to give up at all.” And that’s the honest truth. He will always strive to be worthy of her and the kindness she gives him too readily.

Her eyes shine, and she leans in to kiss him. He meets her halfway, perhaps a little too eagerly, but he loves the warmth that fills him as their lips press together. He doesn’t feel the cold of the air or the snow on their skin or the ice they’re splayed out on. As the kiss grows deeper, he reaches out to wrap his arm around her and pull her even closer, eventually bringing her back on top of him as they continue their heated kiss. 

Ice skating might be fun one day, when he gets the hang of it. But today, Emily is all that matters. 


End file.
